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Feeling like a lodger
In my own home
Thankful for my music
And my new found roam
Families and communities
They are just so hard to find
But in April 2009
I found the most precious kind
I found the name amusing
So the button i clicked on to see
The layout was very inviting
Like an open door should be
For in a matter of minutes
On first uploading a poem
This Highlander was content
He had found a welcome home
So many lovely writers
Poets who share their bless
No longer this Scotsman is
The Man in the Wilderness
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/me.php

LOVE
God is always love
Forever seek the kingdom;
Praise the creator
Keep giving what you can give
Please endure until the end
ANGELS
Beautiful Heavens
Protecting the meek ones earth
Watching over us
Helping us to cope with life
Comforted with hope and trust
MUSIC
When you find rhythm
You find your hearts inner core
Celebrate the times
Make them better than before
Reminisce and dance all night

Always cold in the morning, this kitchen is warmed now
With a roaring fire and my wife working beside me making just desserts
We stand here two hours this afternoon doing one of our projects
Cooking soup and fish for this evening’s xmas party of friends.
The ghetto, the Projects, contained me with the music of
The school’s leather belt and cane. And then
Parents lost in a fire.
That was a tough xmas, alcohol boozy flavored in an
Empty-bottle kitchen, crowded and smoky.
It was a tough meat just cut today red blooded, now pale in the friends’
Xmas gift, the tureen shiny clean. The soup’s
Alcohol flavored in effort to disguise taste of the firm onion, now soft slop. Next, must
Empty bottle of sauce in …add spice…Oh, now chop more veg: and the
Kitchen knife peels and reveals their secret inner fleshes,
Crowded and jostling with juicy tomatoes, now reduced to wrinkled skins; and
Smoky, tall, erect celery now chopped into mini-sets of false teeth
Innocence lost in the poisonous smog of Dublin’s
Orphanage hymns and anthems: God and the state will help
Uniformed religious staff and teachers to tell me
I do not belong - I must reveal no secrets about being
Woken, shaken out of bed, taken (with no word spoken) from the
Cold dormitory, scaly hand on my knee:
Drown in this grasp - fish out of water
Cold. A small shivering fish caught in net, taken now from its fridge
Dormitory for this sacrifice: staring, unfeeling, cold-blooded creature, its
Scaly skin shining on my cutting plate.
Hand on knee, I sit down to gut it, gills first - which made him
Drown as he struggled in the tightened net; and
In this grasp I cut the fish open - an old
Fish which was still feeling
Out of water. It seems a silly, scaled creature now, lifeless, staring at nothing.
I lost my loneliness from that hostile world:
She gave me peace and serenity -
Warm feelings of belonging ; and it’s
Christmas every day.
She is sweet, inviting, colorful, and around her
Melt-in-the-mouth music plays.
She is the essence of sugar,
Sweet free-running chocolate,
Inviting me to dissolve all of her creamy meringue shells
Colorful and delightful, which will swirl
Around her taste and
Melt like love on a summer’s day.
In the mouth of my hell, she has uttered
Music, and forever now, it
Plays sweetly.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written for and entered in Debbie Guzzi’s Contest GET SERIOUS

Inner sanctuary
envision harmony and mental clarity
focus on a journey of possibility
Meditate on transformation and
awareness of inner state
peace and healing
Constructive thought
instruct your mind
to redirect the lost and struggling inner voice
Where you can’t see the wood for the trees
under your nose is the path of freedom
wholeness
Put aside perceived struggles
revitalize, relax, respond
to body, mind, heart and spirit
Intuition, introspection and spiritual renewal
bring about personal healing and
conscious awakening
Stillness of mind – concentration
Thoughts of the subconcious and subliminal
beyond all negativity
away from all interuption
To allow time for self communication and
expression of inner self
Senses – awareness of scent, sight, sound, taste and touch
Healing hands of the medical profession or alternative therapy
ambiance, temperature, oils, music, sounds and
sights of nature or universe
realisation comes in various form and shape
causing us to feel life in fullest expression
Connecting – whispers of wind
radiating everpresent warmth of sun
a blanket of love and light comforts consoles over and through the cosmos
rippling infinately through infinity outwards, onwards
connecting right back into where we are at right now
unmoved unchanged and as we were
Wise – responsible courageous allowed to let go of need to be judgemental or
be judged
let go of controlling enable trust wisdom and humility
intelligence of knowing others
wisdom of knowing self
strength in mastering others
power to master oneself
Energy -breath, force, spirit, soul, God, universe –
whatever – doesn’t matter how you refer to it on personal level
energy, balance, light, sound, vibration, peace
centered self – stillness – silent – eternal –
to have enough is a richness in itself
accept appreciate and acknowledge oneself

I didn't want anyone
to have a sad Christmas,
so I roamed Manhattan's star-decorated streets,
where many a homeless weeps...
where was I to find that someone,
if not in that corner where a barrel fire was?
By God's grace, I found that unhappy person in ragged clothes
to give my four presents to,
ending the drama of his woe
by bringing coat, shoes, gloves and a long scarf
to erase the misery of a beggar whose cold night was rough;
he widely smiled when I leaned forward and offered him my gifts!
Bewildered folks wearing the latest fashion attire, did not have
the decency of stooping down and give him a single quarter,
and doing so they killed the Christmas' spirit entirely...
a generous spirit well-known in this city; yes, my anger
could have made me lash out at them with indignation,
but realizing how greedy people can be withholding love:
I gasped in relief to discover a creche of our Savior so cheery
along the festive Fifth Avenue to get rid of my frustration!
What I found there was a Heaven-inspired sight
of gleaming angel's hovering the stable announcing Christ's glorious birth...
while beneath bang-pipers and trumpets players, glowing with mirth,
accompanied the youngest choir singing, "Holy Night."
Perhaps venturing out in the cold of the wealthiest city,
gave me the opportunity to realize the hidden goodness of kind souls
that give away their humble presents in various forms,
not expecting anything in return...but rejoice in the delightful sound of harmony.

The Bible Is The Inspired Word of God!
I heard someone say “the Bible was written by man.”
But there’s a truth I don’t think he understands.
God used man to simply be an “inspired instrument.”
This was more than some type of “experiment.”
God used many different people from various places.
He used them from both the Jewish and Gentile races!
Though the words spanned a long period of time…
They were written with all of us in mind!
It was as if God himself had taken the pen.
He spoke directly through different men.
All of the books are together with a common goal.
To bring the words of God to the common soul.
I would encourage to read the Bible for your direction.
Allow God’s words to daily be your inspiration!
Won’t you read from Genesis through Revelation?
You can learn about God’s gift of salvation!
The Bible speaks of God’s love and holiness too!
And speaks to the heart of how much HE LOVES YOU!
You can also learn about eternity in a heavenly mansion!
Your life can receive a blessed “abundant life expansion!”
Through the words of Christ, you’ll be blessed!
As you find in him a comfort and a haven of rest!
I invite you to read and apply God’s truth today!
And be transformed by what he really has to say!
By applying Biblical principles in how you’re living!
You’ll be blessed by the awesome words God is giving!
By Jim Pemberton

Hip-Hop is dead
I can’t feel the throb, the devotion, the dedication
I wear all black
Black stilettos, black cut dress, aimed real low
Seductive but simple, I know my place
Beside the King, my sweet deceased Revolutionist
Rap’s number one supporter, holding the casket with a broken
S I G H
Someone plays, a radio, across the way
Slick beats drip past the ears to slime the brain
Wet and easy manipulated clay
Media displays wealth and misogyny
50 million dollar chains
Females addicted to being slapped around
Like China Dolls in half-made Cl o thes
Pose, Shawty and let this crunk beat fill your hips
Purse your lips, Mami, and I’ll let you
Be my accessory
Remember when the revolution was a evolution of the mind
Freestyles match drums in intensity
When freestyles were uncontrolled like the wild brown skin he was in
I felt, loved, Hip-hop in my veins
Let him be the catalyst for the beating of my heart
I was so in love with his swagger, his love of himself and his people
Hat tipped real low to hide the pain
Beat real tight to stop the taint
Of failure and to rise like the dust after a stampede
I’d take Hip-Hop to bed every night
Let him rise and fall like the heaving of my chest
It was so hot I could barely breathe for the intensity overcoming me
The pounding of intellect in my throat
Stroked me from head to toe
And Rocked my ghetto loving soul
And he said things I’ve waited my whole life to hear
play sweetly in my ear
Dreaming of dreams too big
To let fade away
He grew shallow, loving women with hollow heads and thick thighs
Low rides and forgetting what he left at home
Long nights and overtime left me alone
Released hundreds of artists
Torn between money and the spoken word
His best friends tried to revive what was inside, too late the damage took over
50 Cent arrived with Lil’s, and Young’s and a mess of southern heat
I was there when the light left his eyes
After Dr.Dre’s Chronic
Hip-Hop was Dead

I have just scratched the surface of my latent hatred
Of my blind, awe-inspiring, narcissistic, misanthropic, vehement self
In Flames draws it
As, I believe, Nightwish will
There is so much power here, my heart is stone.
But inside, oh how is it acerbic!
Corrosive, burning
It burns! I feel… the burn
It yearns to burst out
To… to kill
Do I mean that?
No, just thoughts.
Twisted, darkened thought.
Define me?
No, they do not.
The moment I turn this music off
I am out.
I am me.
But, right now, I am king.
A god, DO AS I SAY!
…and leave me be.
Desolate, forgotten.
Anything else is unsatisfactory
No… IT IS TORTURE.
So get away.
Get away!
Humans make me weak.
I acknowledge no pain,
only that which you give me
So leave!
Go, go now!
...and live.
It is all your fault,
it is all your fault!
My twisted, wretched existence
Bound by darkness,
Bound by rusted iron chains,
to this never-ending life
of pain, of misery, of anguish!
Escape? There is none.
Certainly not by your hand
You are foolish, you are human, and you are nothing.
How could you think us equals?
Don’t you see me?
Don’t you see my power?

Nero was a cruel, unfair emperor playing
the lyre as his disguise to conceal his consuming guilt;
and he caused destruction without feeling
an ounce of pity for those he governed with distrust.
Why did he want to destroy a city so mighty and glorious,
and replace it with a Golden Palace and magnificent gardens?
It seems inconceivable, but it was confirmed by many as the Great Fire
which ravaged Rome for six horrible days...who dared to call Nero a liar?
On the rooftop, with the widest view of Rome burning underneath,
Nero played the lyre as his disguise...singing,"The destruction of Troy" with derision.
And while looking so innocent and sad, he did nothing to control it;
wasn't his madness an evident sign of that contemplated act brought to completion?
Finding the scapegoats was too easy for him, to cover up his evil deed...
he blamed the Christians and had them thrown to the beasts of the Colosseum,
but many more were crucified along the Via Appia and was Nero appeased?
No, he still continued to play the lyre as his disguise with increased delirium.

We must leave the ninety-nine
To go search and find
The one lost sheep
Wand'ring far behind
We must leave the ninety-nine
To go search and find
The one lost sheep-
Left behind (Chorus)
Just suppose one of you has a hundred sheep
Then loses one of them and begins to weep
Would you not leave the ninety and nine
And go after the one on your heart and mind
And when it's found you would hold it closer
And carry it home upon your shoulders
Then call all your neighbors and gather all your friends
Celebrating your sheep that's back in the fold again
[Bridge]
Likewise there's more rejoicing
In Heaven up above
Over one lost soul who will repent
Than for the ninety-nine
Who are already found
To be righteous and so obedient (So..)
(Chorus)
Now suppose one of you has ten silver coins
But then loses one of them from your collection
Would you not light the house and sweep the floors
Searching very carefully for what is yours
Would you not put away the other precious nine
And look in every corner until the lost one you'd find
Then call all your neighbors and gather all your friends
Celebrating you have your coin in your hand again
[Bridge]
(Chorus)
[Bridge2]
But don't forsake the congregation
And now's the time for visitation
To lead the lost ones to salvation
With God's angels in celebration
(Chorus)

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them

Verse 1
I’ve had this dream now for a while,
But the real world’s where I choose to stay,
The time is now for standing up,
To reach out for that brighter day.
Chorus
Unite to lend a hand to those who are in need,
Unite against them, whose souls are consumed by greed,
Unite and lend a hand, and we can change the world,
We’re the ones we’ve been waiting for.
Verse 2
Walking past two souls holding hands,
I see that it’s true love conquers all,
A dreamland where we all sing and dance,
And hands to catch us should we fall.
(Chorus)
Bridge
United, it’s in our hands,
United, it’s how we stand,
United, across all lands.
Empathy, we understand,
Together, it’s how we stand,
Unite with one voice, One Hand.

Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change
People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.
People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names
The list could go on
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou,
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew
George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise
Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X,
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle,
But obviously greatness can be done.
We can rise above this stigma
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
It's mine

Don't you worry bout my soul
Til you've been down all my lonely roads
And gauged the weight of my full load
Don't you worry bout my soul
.
I see you on the tv conning, talking squawking walking like you really care about me and my kind
You cry your tears like a crocodile empty eyes phony smile,
To me I plainly see you're clearly blind
So don't you worry bout my kind . . .
I see everything just fine
You're busy yelling and a tellin me all the things you think you can see, going on in this ol world you think ain't right
Get the beam on out of your own eye, til you've listened to the children cry, hungry and tormented in the night
Don't you worry bout my eyes . . .
I'm seeing everything just fine
.
Don't you worry bout my ears
Cause you've been deaf for many years
I don't need some deaf man tellin me what I should hear or how to be, when he is only playing on my fears
So don't you worry bout my ears . . .
I hear your deafness loud and clear
.
Don't you worry bout my mind
Though it gets misplaced from time to time
But I think I know what courage means, how heartache feels, when freedom rings
And I know that I am running out of time
So don't you worry bout my mind . . .
I think I'll get along just fine
.
Don't you worry bout my soul
Cause I met the Master long ago
And the one you portray Him to be
Is not the same One known to me
The One Who made me free so long ago
So don't you worry bout my soul.
.
Mathew 15:14

There’s a new dance craze
Comin’ on the media both ways.
They all like it out west
And east it passes the test.
The girls don their lingerie,
Then agitate it every which way.
She does the reel and the shake,
Making more moves than an earthquake.
Your mind’s control is her rear rotation,
Making your only thought gratification.
Forgetting all God knows you need,
You’re ready to bow and humbly plead.
But the booty shakin’ doesn’t stop,
So it’s best you leave before you drop.
Lord, my quest is for a chain reaction,
From where the booty is to Your satisfaction.

Thump, thump, thump,
Like the beat of a heart,
The speakers scream and howl,
As they shake the car apart.
What are those words I hear,
They hide behind the beat,
Assaulting my aural senses,
As you pass me in the street.
Sex and drugs,
Violence and hate,
Strange themes for a song,
That you think is great.
You call this music art,
I just call it rap,
But some have the opinion,
That it’s nothing more than ...

I’ve become so numb
Due to the mass media
The images that we see today are from our own viewing
Not knowing the effects that we show
Come old or young we are all based on the wealthy
Views the show TV … beam me up Scotty take me away
Take me to a place were TV shows us what we wanna her
But we should not endear
This is their world not our day to day
Read beatify magazines they will only make you feel ugly
Skinny the thing to be, hay American high school that’s the place to be
Give me space while I lick my face
This is ace as this has no trace
Gang hoods
They must be thieves, this is what we no
As tv showed me, just like cloth around the face told me
Run like
Cee U Next Tuesday………………….
In a bit, smoke some weed
Hay that dude must be black like 2PAC
Rap and grime their all commuting crime
It’s not true there just writing lines with rhymes
Just like me and you

In the exact moment that I am right now
I stand in a sea of vulnerability;
susceptible to the effects of causes around me
and since I am fully aware,
I own my surroundings
I am one with sounds and vibrations
resonating from the earth;
I am that pulse of the drum beat
thats been thrashing
inside me since birth
Right now, I am exactly as I am
deeply flawed and misjudged
used, victimized and persecuted
Right now I am you in the absolute
Right now, I am exactly as I am
balanced, whole and complete
attracting abundance and certainty
Right now I am peace - still you
Right now, I am exactly as I am
You

for bruce springsteen...
it was a rain-swept monsoon day
way back then, so many moons away
when i felt the music strumming in my veins
setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins
you sang of simple truths,
your verse spoke to people just like me
in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night
as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone's plight
'bobby jean' spoke to me
of that girl down the street
glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet
and 'the river' that flowed through my ever-barren heart
led me down further roads of thunder
when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on
and never to surrender
to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run
while i danced in the dark
with memories vivid and stark
even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark
and then a 'human touch' came along
and 'better days' seemed real, not just words in a song
and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes
as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies
in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned
as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned
and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up
working on a highway of scattered ideals
and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup
well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road
with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad
but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night
just like the ghost of that old tom joad...

I think I self-sabotage unknowingly
because of fear
So my message goes unheard because I’m afraid to let the people hear
And end up drowning in the poetic blues
doubting my ability to write about the truth;
I dug deeper and deeper into myself trying to write a poem good enough to be free of judgment
Then I stepped out on faith and suddenly I was triumphant
and my writing grew
and I was loving it
I had finally passed the fear of speaking and caring about who the fu*c! was judging it
As I wait to be inspired for the next poem,
I sit and think alone and drown in my sorrows
Listening to jazz, blues and a.m. radio
trying to find an excuse not to perform at the SLAM
because again I can’t think of a damn thing to write…..
Drowning in poetic blues
Will this be the one that will be thrown away and never be used
Or will this be the one that transcends the others
and finally prove that poetry is blues and blues is poetry and hip hop and jazz and r&b,
Poetry is music and the words dance around in my soul
and I am free once they become spoken
In the meantime the paper is where the words will rest
until the silence is broken
Drowning in the sea of proper delivery
My voice, my stance, my intensity
How will others interpret the words that I’ve chosen so diligently?
I wrap my soul around the possibility that none of the words I choose –
will keep me from becoming deluged and trapped by the poetic blues
Somehow my heart refuses to accept that I don’t deserve to have my words heard
and it takes over this whole process
No more time for shrinking and feeling less
I was born to make my words manifest light
I am a gorgeous medium to the truth yeah that's right
I was sent here to give you a piece of good news
Remember that God is with you when you get
The poetic blues

As soon as I walk in,
you walk right up to me;
And I know what I want,
but you ask me what I need.
I know you're just doin' your job,
and I'm just doin' mine,
but I cannot help but wonder if you're open, come closin' time.
There aren't many people,
with whom, I get along;
And there are even fewer,
for whom, I'll write a song,
but you like to hear me sing,
and I like to watch you pour.
I wonder if there's something that we both would like much more.
Hey, bartender. Would you wait on me?
I guess I'll just have to wait and see.
But I don't care if it's last call or not -
Hey, bartender. Would you give me a shot?
Let's make a toast: To making the most of most.
Let us not look to see. What will be, will be.
So, when you close out my tab,
and I ask for one more thing;
And say, "Could you call me - a cab?"
'Stead of "Call me in the morning."
'Cause I don't wanna go too far,
but I don't wanna go without;
So, if I am where you are,
please, bartender, don't close me out.

(POEM ENTRY)
A SISTER'S LOVE
THERES A HELL I FEEL INSIDE, AS A LOST CHILD CRIED, I WAS HELPLESS TO SAVE HER LIFE
SHE WASNT READY TO BE TAKEN AWAY FROM ME LORD,SHE WASNT READY TO DIE
TEAR A HOLE IN THE SHY TONIGHT, LET THE ASHES OF RAIN,PUT OUT THE FIRES OF RAGE INSIDE
THIS I WILL FOREVER KNOW IS TRUE SISTER , I WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER YOU
FEELS LIKE FOREVER WHEN YOU JUST KEEP ON FALLIN, FEELS LIKE THERES NOTHING LEFT TO HOLD ON TO
FEELS LIKE FOREVER WHEN YOU JUST KEEP ON FALLIN
A SISTERS LOVE, NEVER GOES AWAY,FLY THROUGH THE SKIES OF YOUR DESTINY
A SISTERS LOVE, NEVER GOES AWAY,RESTING IN THE ARMS OF ETERNAL GRACE
I WISH I COULD WALK DOWN THE STREETS OF YESTERDAY, NOT A CARE IN THE WORLD,JUST HAPPY YO BE PART OF A FAMILY
BLACK CLOUDS ABOVE, AN ONCOMING STORM ARRIVES, IM FIGHTING TO SURVIVE, I MUST CARRY ON HER NAME NOW, AND FIND AN END TO THE HARD TIMES
FEELS LIKE FOREVER WHEN YOU JUST KEEP ON FALLIN, FEELS LIKE THERES NOTHING TO HOLD ON TO
FEELS LIKE FOREVER WHEN YOU JUST KEEP FALLIN
A SISTERS LOVE, NEVER GOES AWAY,FLY THROUGH THE SKIES OF YOUR DESTINY
A SISTERS LOVE, NEVER GOES AWAY. RESTING IN THE ARMS OF ETERNAL GRACE
AS I LOOK UP AT THE SKY, WATCHING THE CLOUDS PASSING ME BY
I SEE AN ANGEL FLY,THERES A FEATHER FALLIN IN MY EYE,
THE SEEDS THAT WERE ONCES SOWN,WILL FOREVER GROW, YOUR SPIRIT LIVES ON, INSIDE YOUR CHLIDRENS MINDS, YOU ARE THE BEATING HEART OF THEIR HAPPINESS, CREATOR OF ALL OF THIER DREAMS IN LIFE
FEELS LIKE FOREVER WHEN YOU JUST KEEP ON FALLIN, FEELS LIKE THERES NOTHING LEFT TO HOLD ON TO
FEELS LIKE FOREVER WHEN YOU JUST KEEP FALLIN
A SISTERS LOVE, NEVER GOES AWAY, FLY THROUGH THE SKIES OF YOUR DESTINY
A SISTERS LOVE, NEVER GOES AWAY, RESTING IN THE ARMS OF ETERNAL GRACE
THERS A HEEL I FEEL INSIDE,AS A LOST CHILD CRIED, I WAS HELPLESS TO SAVE HER LIFE,SHE WASNT READY TO BE TAKEN AWAY FROM ME LORD,SHE WASNT READY TO DIE, TEAR A HOLE IN THE SKY TONIIGHT,LET THE ASHES OF RAIN, PUT OUT THE FIRE OF RAGE INSIDE
THIS I WILL FORVEVR KNOW IS TRUE SISTER, I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU.
RESPECTFULLY SUBMIITED & THANK YOU FOR TAKEN TIME TO READ AND CONTINUE A MEMORY
Written & Dedicated to Joy M Williams
Etched in Paper & Everlasting Marked PJW
Collaboration by Paul J Williams, jim Oslager, Jack Oslager
All Words Lyrics & Music
320 S 3rd Street
Oxford Pa 19363
215 901 3073 cell

Writing is my thing. My drug of choice. My bling bling.
I fall in love with the similies and mentions of passion while wrapping my body in
sentences.
Creating complicated rhythms and making them simples as instances
Every line a differenet emphasis
Commas, explinations and periods
Sometimes rhyming and sometimes not
Stopping to puff so my thoughts can lock
Feeding hungry souls starved from starvation
Creating new creations
Making people feel the sensation as I build up to mind elevation
The quest for knowledge is not a game
Spoken movements teach about the pain
I write to ease the pain
Rhythms run deep
Deep underneath clouded visions of unspoken truth lies a message
a message...a message that should be taught accurately to the youth
About the struggle of a people that was misued
abused, refused, confused, raped, beaten down
uneducated
portrayed as clowns, coons, niggers, fools
Modern day niggas and goons
Wake up!! Did you hear the news?
You are responsible for you!
Imagine how it would be tho
If we were uninterrupted and brought overseas yo
Uprooted from a line of royalty kings and queens
Africa unite is all we'd sing
Rhythms run deeper into the seams of my being
I write to ease the pain of the oppressed
I write to celebrate their success
I write to educate the rest
The message..The message..The message is very clear
No time time to waste
The time is NOW
It's here!

Nineteen fable
Nineteen fable
MUSICK NONnude Review
CHarlaxFabels
Grand Funk Railroad was a fave group of mine the best time eye ever had was in
a house on a rug listening to this song of hard rock and rhinocerous thumps.
Wait. FOGHAT was the best for sex but lucky mee was never a Catholic. The
Horns blew for Chicago and there was lots of other groups to make this fable
bleed there was the Creedence Clearwater Revival so cool so wonderful a thing.
John Fogarty sure must have been a saint. Eye wish he had not got so mad and
left the other members of his group. But Creedence Song became a new fave
thing.
Daddy had a band
Played him a little guitar
Traveled in a van
Livin' that rock and roll
Night after night
People comin' up to the bandstand
Say you can't go wrong
If you play a little bit of that
Creedence song
It was late one night
Cruisin' on down the interstate
Stopped into a diner
To get him some chili and fries
Heard the waitress tell a guy
Standin' over by the jukebox
Hey you can't go wrong
If you play a little bit of that
Creedence song
Well daddy took a shine
To the lil' girl behind the counter
She movin' her hips to the swamp beat
Right on time
Said could he play her somethin'
Over there on the jukebox
She said you can't wrong
If you play a little bit of that
Creedence song
Daddy had a plan
He asked that girl to marry
With a brand new wife
They're livin' on rock and roll
Night after night
She whispers oh so sweetly
Hey you can't go wrong
If you play a little bit of that
Creedence song

For Bob Dylan
sheltered from the howling winds of vows and scattered souls and sweltering hate
she is a refuge from the blistering sands of dread and loss and torn and twisted fate
when the emptiness inside becomes an abyss so dark and wild and cold
my words get lost in the jangling alleys where dreams are bought and sold
I met her in those alleys among the withering roses on a bed of thorns
and she filled me up with poems banishing the scowling moments and their baleful scorns
now I lie awake and wish that I could sleep and drift away into the maze of her dream
but slumber has fled and slipped the noose around my words as they thrash around and scream
words that swirl around and around like that scarlet scarf wrapped around her face
she's a mystery still as she will always be while I sift through this empty desolate space
the storm it broke and ceased and shuffled my words as they drifted forlornly into the chasm of the dead
leaving me here still and mute and frantic as I try to pick up the pieces of all the words that have been said
far too many far too often far too conceited and far too proud
for I failed to hear the stillness of beauty as I rambled along barking my words out aloud
she hushes me now as she hushed me then in the cobwebbed tunnels of the past
while I weep more words in blood and ink onto dried parchment meant never to last
so tell her that her whiskey has been greedily gulped down and now that I am soberly drunk
I see her songs and hear her breath reaching down into my mouldy abode of hapless funk
fare-thee-well for now as I slide into the scribbled hubris of another battered rhyme
dazed by the glaring embers as they scorch the moments of quickly fading time
and if tomorrow finds me here still shell-shocked and drained in body and in mind
tell her that her wine has slipped through the loose knots that bind
tying me to this place of sanity and insanity all rolled into one
while all is numb and scarred from the deed that has been done
and as I flee recklessly chasing away myself from me once more
she'll know the words for its a song that's been sung far too many times before
(for bob dylan)